Heavy Is the Head That Wears the Crown
by Lennychilduwu
Summary: I swear story is better than summary side note: Tony still does have his arc reactor in this fanfic )) - - Pain is brief, trauma temporary, and friends don't last forever. But fear? Fear sticks with you and doesn't let go. Tony Stark learns that the hard way.
1. Only the Beginning.

PTSD: Short for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock, typically involving disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience, with dulled responses to others and to the outside world.

You could be the world's greatest and renowed therapist- If you went up to Tony Stark and told him he suffered with PTSD and anxiety, he'd simply laugh in your face and insist he was fine; that he was eccentric and was allowed to have weird little quirks and actions. So what if he removed all the tubs from Stark Tower after Afghanistan? Tony was rich, he could renovate anything he owned at anytime he wanted- it wasn't paranoia.

If he avoided staring up into the sky, especially at nighttime so what? Tony Stark was completely and utterly fine; he didn't have to answer to anyo-

"Stark!"

Tony looked up, snapping out of his thoughts and givin Fury an owlish blink. "What, we calling out last names here?"

"Have you caught a single damn word I've said yet or are you too busy daydreaming?" Fury glared at him with his one black eye- Tony could swear he had no soul sometimes.

"I was only thinking of how cute you'd look with a pink eyepatch." Tony cooed. "I have a very good seamstress, amazing work. You'd like her." A smile worked it's way onto his face hearing Clint's unmistakable laugh.

"Just pay attention, I don't want to repeat myself again- do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." Tony grumbled, leaning back in the chair and raising his eyebrows at Steve frowning at him.

"It's a simple mission. Some dumbasses got their hands on antimatter guns and things like that. It's your jobs to go in, get the weapons- and get out. Understand?"

There was a chorus of agreements from the other five people in the room. Tony simply nodded, toying with a loose thread he found on the cuff on the sleeve.

"Then go on and get me those damn weapons."


	2. Falling Apart At the Seams

"Great, an abandoned warehouse. Really tasting the originality here, guys." Tony grumbled, hovering over the mentioned structure

Everyone else was hiding in the foliage; Clint in a tree, really, which made Tony giggle. "I mean- is it really abandoned? 'Cause if the bad guys are hiding out here it's technically not abandoned and-"

"Oh my god, Tony!" Clint groaned. "Shut the hell up, you're breaking my concentration!" The archer chimed in through the comm, irritation practically oozing from his voice.

Tony huffed quietly, mocking him under his breath before speaking up. "All fun and games, birdie-" He started. "Cap, what's the game plan? I'm in position. There's two gaurds each at the front and back door. want me to take 'em out?"

"No, it might alert the others if you aren't fast enough." Steve sighed. "Romanov, Barton; You got this?"

"'Course we do." Clint hummed out. "Won't even know what hit the poor bastards." Placing two arrows against the string, He drew it back with ease- aiming the explosive arrows, courtesy of Stark of course, at the gaurds' feet.

Natasha smoothly snuck around towards the back entrance, pulling out her guns from the holsters and aiming it at the last two gaurds. "Just give us the go ahead."

"Alright, go ahead then." Steve replied. Immediately, Barton released the arrows, the two of them hititng the ground with a whizz. Before the front door gaurds could even react, the arrows detonated. Tony winced quietly. "Okay- they aren't walking away from that one.. or walking at all. Itsey Bitsey, you doing good back there?"

"I told you to stop calling me that, Stark. But yes, I'm fine. All done back here." Romonov replied dully.

"You love it.' The man teased, landing next to her. "Ladies first?"

Before she could even form a single word- the warehouse combusted in flames and exploded.


End file.
